Just Another Sunday Night In East Willie

I have a confession to make: I like East Williamsburg. There are a number of reasons for this, among them:

1. Like it or hate it— for better or worse— this neighborhood delightfully eccentric. Where else have you seen a dead rat on Siamese hydrant sporting a bottle cap for a hat flanked by an empty fifth of brandy and an empty baggie of cocaine? Don’t everyone speak up at once.

2. Not unlike the Garden Spot of the Universe, East Williamsburg is an honest-to-god community. They help each other out in times of need.

Which brings me to what my buddy Chin, a former Greenpointer and current East Williamsburg resident, recounted to me this evening. In an email entitled “on the way from your house” she writes:

This dude was sitting on the ground screaming at his girlfriend to “just pull it!  NOW!”  And I was wary.  Then as I passed he said:

Excuse me, are you strong enough to pull this nail out of my foot?

Turns out he stepped on a nail and it went THROUGH his shoe and lodged in his foot. I felt bad so I gave it a shot, but there was no way to grip it hard enough.  So I went back in my house and came out with a pair of needle nose pliers, and got a grip on the nail, and his girlfriend held his hand while we all counted to three—and I just pulled it the fuck out.  My good deed for the day.

That’s neighborhood love for you. It’s one thing to check someone’s mail, sign for a package or house-sit someone’s cat. I have done all the previous on a number of occasions. But pulling a nail out of a total stranger’s foot?!? That, dear readers, is pure unadulterated East Williamsburg magic.

Chin, I salute you!

Miss Heather